


He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss)

by weekendoffender



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:05:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendoffender/pseuds/weekendoffender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin has hit Dan 3 times. The first was an accident. The second, a misunderstanding. The third? That one was on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is no where near as dark & angsty as my header is making it seem. The narrative is kind of humorous & cracky, actually.

The first time he hits you is by accident. You're trying to break up a fight between him and Soto. You don't know what it's about. You know it's not the smartest idea to get between the two very angry men. And you get a fist to the head for your troubles. It was probably for the best though, as the fist was intended for Soto's nose.

The second time he hits you is kind of an accident. More of a misunderstanding really. See, he taught some of the boys a few Slovak swears. And they, in turn, taught you. That was all well and good. Until the two of you got into a fight over something you can't even remember, honestly. And you kind of, may have, by accident told him his mother was a whore. In Slovakian. Thing is, you couldn't even remember what it meant at the time. You just remembered it was something bad. Except he didn't know that, didn't even know you'd learnt a bit of Slovak. So he hit you. You couldn't blame him really.

The third time wasn't an accident. It was totally on purpose and you can blame him. You're still kind of pissed about it, actually. See, the thing is you had been longing after him for a while. OK, a long time. Since the first day you met him and he smiled at you like you were the only person in the room. So yeah, it's been a while. Four years of pining over someone was starting to get old, so you decided it was time to make a move. You asked him earlier to wait for you after training. Didn't give an excuse, he didn't ask. So you took extra long in the showers, waited until the locker room cleared out and he was the only one left. You wrapped yourself in a towel, strolled out of the showers, grabbed his neck and kissed him. And he hit you. Really damn hard, by the way. So yeah, it wasn't an accident that time. Except this time you hit him back. Just as hard, you know. You watched in fascination as he swayed backwards and his lip split. You watched in horror as he snarled at you and threw you against the wall. Hard wall that split your head open a bit, by the way. You're still pissed about that too, now that you remember. You were about to swing again, was contemplating a knee to the groin when instead of hitting you, he was kissing you. Violently. All teeth that ripped at your lips and demanded entry. And then there was blood everywhere. Hands too. And soon your towel was on the floor and that blood was acting as a pretty poor lube and then you're getting your brains fucked out.

The fourth time... well the fourth time hasn't happened yet. And you figure as long as you don't try to break up a fight or cuss out his mother again, there won't be one. You were a bit hesitant to kiss him again though, the next morning. Unsurprisingly you did end up with another fist though, just not to the head you were worried about.


	2. He Hit Me (And He Made Me Feel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin has hit Dan 3 times. The first was an accident. The second was on purpose (although Dan calls it a misunderstanding). The third? That one was an accident... well, more of a reflex, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for LJ user ELF_MD, who (not so subtly) requested a follow-up to my fic in Martin's POV. And how can I deny her? <3  
> This fic is no where near as dark & angsty as my header is making it seem.  
> Also, I should add that I'm totally in love with Soto & don't think he'd ever say anything remotely homophobic. I just had to come up with something bad enough that would make Martin want to punch him, seeing as he & Martin seem pretty close.

The first time you hit Danny was an accident. You were in an argument with Soto. An argument that turned into a fight because Soto had called you a faggot after the Greek had found some gay porn on your laptop. What the bastard was doing on your laptop, you never got an answer to. But the fight that ensued was a big one and Danny had just happened to be passing by your hotel room when it started. Danny and his love for everyone, Danny and his need to fix everything. So yeah, the first hit was an accident. But at least you missed Soto's nose. That would have been a bitch to explain to management.

The second time you hit him was on purpose. He likes to call it a misunderstanding, which is bullshit. But if it makes him feel better then you'll go along with it. You were in an argument, the first real one you'd ever had. Apparently you'd been acting 'off' and he wanted to know why. He thought it was because you were sick of him, started shouting that if you wanted to room with someone else then to just man up and tell him. So instead of yelling at him that you were in fact sick of jacking off over him in the shower every night, you yelled something about his snoring. And then he called your mother a whore. In Slovakian. And when the hell did he learn Slovak? So you punched him fair across the jaw because no one calls your mother a whore; not Danny, not even Roy fucking Hodges. You would have knocked him clean out too.  
You found out later, when he came looking for you with an icepack pressed to his jaw, that he didn't know what he had said. The pathetic way his shoulders slumped when you told him what he'd called your mother made you want to run over to him, wrap your arms around him and kiss that pitiful frown away. Instead, you grumbled about a shower and pushed past him to make your way back to your room.

The third time you hit him was kind of an accident. More of a reflex, honestly. He'd asked you to stay back after training. He never gave a reason, you never asked. It was Danny, after all. You waited until the locker rooms had cleared out, sat on the bench as you watched the last of your team mates head home. You were just about to call out to him, tell him to hurry the fuck up when you heard his shower turn off. A flood of images swamped your mind as you pictured him in the shower; towel chasing the drops of water sliding down his body, hair sticking up at odd angles, skin soft clean and smelling of soap. You lurched off the bench and mentally berated yourself, had turned to slam your fist into a locker when you heard him. Soft footsteps padding over tile and you turned and he was there. Right there, hand on your neck and then there were lips and what the fuck?  
You panicked, you'll admit it. And as your fist went flying into his cheek all you could think of was Soto calling you a faggot. Was this a fucked up joke? Did Soto tell Danny? Was he about to jump out from behind the lockers with a camera and Roy's number on speed dial? So yeah, you panicked. But before you had a chance to get an answer out of him he was throwing a fist your way. A fist that connected hard. Really fucking hard, the bastard. Before you realised it, there was blood dripping down your jaw and onto your chest and as your eyes travelled downwards to watch it flow you saw it. Saw that towel wrapped around Danny's waist. Saw that it was tented out and what the fuck? He was hard? Fuck he was hard! And that meant...  
And in a split second you were on him, all teeth and then there was more blood and fuck you wanted him and fuck you were so fucking pissed off at him and yourself and you didn't don't even know why. You just wanted him as hard and fast as possible in case this was it and you had to go back to your hand every night. And before you knew it his towel was on the floor and he was rutting against you like a whore and there was blood everywhere. You spat into your hand, shoved two dripping red fingers into him and the way he cried out and moaned and scratched at your shoulders was the sexiest fucking thing you'd ever seen. And fuck you wanted more. So you pulled your fingers out, coated your cock in the quickly drying blood and pushed into him as hard and fast as possible. And the way he screamed and pleaded and begged had your mind swimming and your heart racing and neither of you ended up lasting very long.

The fourth time... well there hasn't been a fourth time yet. You figure the next time Soto calls you a faggot Danny will probably be the one to throw a punch. And you've made sure to teach him all the Slovakian curse words you can think of. Just in case. Unsurprisingly, he was hesitant to kiss you when you woke up together the next day. You can't blame the boy, really. You did give him a black eye. So when you saw his lips slowly making their way for yours, you just smiled the best you could with your split lip and leaned in to meet him. And later on, while you were wrapped around each other, you may have given him another fist... just not to the head you figure he was worried about.


End file.
